


picked you out from the crowd

by ArgentLives



Series: Across Every Universe (You are Home) [9]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Awkwardness, Coincidences, F/M, Fluff, Poor Barry, Trashiness abound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 10:33:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4825787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentLives/pseuds/ArgentLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“And do you two know each other?” Joe demands, pointing at them accusingly.</p><p>Iris blurts out a ‘yes’ at the same time Barry stammers out a ‘no’.</p><p>“I mean, yes—”</p><p>“—I meant no!”</p><p>“Um.” Barry rubs the back of his neck, determinedly avoiding Iris’s gaze. “What we mean is, uh, we’ve met before, briefly, like, in passing. But we don’t really know each other, um. You know?”</p><p> </p><p>[Barry Allen is simultaneously the luckiest and unluckiest guy in the world. Also, he totally just slept with his boss's daughter. Go figure.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	picked you out from the crowd

**Author's Note:**

> for this one I combined two prompts that I was sent, which were: 1. “‘You’re my boss’ kid and we kinda had a one night stand.’ w/Joe as the boss” and 2. “’you thought i was someone else and started making out with me at a club and you’re really hot so i just went with it and now we’re heading back to your place and idk how to break it to you’ au”

Barry doesn’t dance. Like, never. Ever, ever. So when Cisco _insists_  on dragging him out to the club to spend the night out, it mostly consists of him standing around awkwardly on the dance floor, shuffling his feet and swaying back and forth in some way that may or may not qualify as dancing, shaking his head at Cisco’s…enthusiastic…rhythm, and silently bonding with Caitlin over how out of place they feel here. This kind of thing has never really been his scene. 

He’s laughing at a particularly strange dance movie that Cisco is pulling off, exchanging an amused look with Caitlin—whose eye he catches as Cisco’s twirling her around in his arms—when he hears a voice come from behind him. 

“Oh, there you are! I didn’t know you were over here…” 

He assumes that this is meant for someone else, and simply ignores it. But then there’s a hand on his shoulder, and he turns around to face whoever it is, confused. He tries to open his mouth to tell them that they’ve got the wrong person and—and then they’re kissing him. And not gentle kissing either, not just a peck on the lips, but _really_ intense, really passionate kissing, and he’s so taken off guard that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, or how to respond. 

His eyes are still open so even though it’s dark, he’s able to get a good look at her face this up-close and personal, and wow.  _Wow._  How is it possible that someone who looks like _that_  is kissing  _him_? And then she wraps a hand around his neck to pull him down closer to her and deepens it and there’s really nothing he can think to do besides kiss her back.

When she pulls away, she rests a hand on his chest and smiles at him. She squints a little, and he wonders whether she can even really see him, considering how dimly lit the place is, how the only time he can really see her is when the strobe light flashes and throws light their way. It’s bound to be confusing. He also wonders whether she’s mistaken him for someone, because there’s no way she randomly picked  _him_  from the crowd, of all people. He’s just not that lucky.

“Hmm. You’re taller than I thought. Maybe just because you were sitting down earlier, but…Come on, let’s get out of here. Your place, if you don’t mind. My dad’ll be home. Pretend I didn’t just say that, actually—I don’t want you making fun of me for still living with my dad,” she babbles, and Barry doesn’t know how to respond.

He looks over to Caitlin and Cisco, startled, unsure of what to do with himself. This kind of thing never happens to him, and now he’s pretty much positive she’s got the wrong person. Cisco’s grin is wide and encouraging and he gives Barry a hearty thumbs up, while Caitlin just rolls her eyes. Barry makes a baffled face at them as the girl tugs at his hand again, pulling him away from the crowd. In the end, he can’t figure out a way to say no, or for her to hear him over the loud music, and then again he doesn’t really want to. He turns to give Cisco a wide-eyed salute and then lets himself be pulled away. 

Except that by the time they make it outside, and the crisp air has cleared his head a bit from the happy-fog that her kiss had left settled over his better judgement, he remembers that he’s probably not the guy she’d been looking for, and that’s…really not cool. He can’t let this drag on any longer, no matter how much he wants to—she’s bound to realize he’s an imposter once she gets a good look at him in better light. That wouldn’t be fair to her.

“Hey,” he calls out to her, working past the pleasant haziness she’s still left on his mind. “I don’t…um, I don’t think I’m the person you were looking for.”

She whips back around so fast he nearly crashes into her, but then she stands on her tip-toes and squints her eyes again to get a better look at his face. Her mouth falls open a little in surprise.

“Oh. You’re not Eddie.”

Barry swallows hard. He knew it was too good to be true, but it still stings. “Your boyfriend?”

She blinks, and then breaks out into laughter. It’s a nice sound. He finds himself wanting to hear more of it. “Boyfriend? Oh, God, no. He’s just a guy I met at the bar, like, an hour ago. He bought me a drink. I’d hardly say that qualifies as dating.”

“Ah,” Barry nods, unsure of what to do with himself. He motions weakly back to the club, reluctant to leave but seeing no other option. “I…uh…I guess I’ll be getting back, then. Have a nice—”

“Don’t be silly,” she says, grabbing his hand again and resuming pulling him along with her. “You’re cute, too. And a good kisser. You’ll do just fine.”

“Excuse me…?” he manages to get out, eyes wide, voice an octave too high.

“Work has been hell, lately. I’m just looking to have a good time tonight, you know? Have some fun. Let loose. Whatever,” she waves a hand in the air, nonchalant, and then freezes. He nearly walks right into her again. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to, or you’re not down for that. I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to make you feel pressured. I just assumed—I shouldn’t have assumed—I didn’t—”

Barry shakes his head, grateful that he’s not the only one who seems to be nervous anymore. “No, no it’s fine. I’m, uh. I’m totally down. I’m just…surprised, is all.”

“Oh,” she grins, and tugs excitedly at his hand again. She hails a cab as they approach the street corner. “ _Excellent_.”

 

* * *

 

When he wakes up, she’s already gone, and he feels a momentary flash of disappointment at the empty spot in the bed next to him, disappointment that he immediately works to tamp down. What did he expect? That she was going to stick around? There was a reason these kinds of things were called ‘one-night stands’. They typically only lasted…well, one night. Still, it’s hard not to want more when he pictures that smile, when he remembers the night they had, how she’d made him feel, all the things they’d laid awake talking about after and—he stops himself. He’s practically blushing just thinking about it.

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and rubs a tired hand his face, and then goes to check the time on his phone sitting on the nightstand. He feels a sudden, swooping sensation in his stomach when he taps the screen and it tells him that he has a text message from _‘Iris ;)’_. 

Iris.  _The girl from last night._ He doesn’t even remember getting her number, but he’s certainly not complaining. He embarrasses himself with how eagerly he hastens to read the message, and finds he can’t wipe the smile on his face after he does.

_‘Hope you don’t mind—I put my number in your phone while you were sleeping, and I sent a message to myself so I’d have yours. I had to leave for work this morning, but…I just wanted to let you know that you can call/text me anytime. Last night was great ;)’_

He’s so beside himself with excitement that it takes him at least a solid two minutes to realize that he’s slept through his alarm, and that he’s already late for work, himself. He still takes the time to respond, typing and deleting and re-typing his messages so many times—debating the right thing to say, not wanting to sound too desperate, but then again not too uninterested—that by the time he’s finally satisfied with sending off a simple  _‘Definitely ;)’_ , he’s so late that he’s  _really_ pushing his luck.

“What’s got you all bright and chipper today, Allen? You’re  _late_ ,” is the gruff greeting he receives from his boss when he enters the precinct and makes his way to his lab, still grinning like mad. 

“Oh, sorry Captain West,” he pauses, briefly considering telling him at least part of it. In the time that he’s worked here, from when he’d known him as just ‘Officer’ and then ‘Detective’ and finally as ‘Captain’, Joe West had always been something of a mentor to him, and he’d venture to say that they’re decent friends. Plus, he feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t tell someone. “I met a girl. She’s amazing.”

“Well, congratulations,” Joe raises an eyebrow, and fights the urge to smile. He’s always had something of a soft spot for their resident forensic scientist, in all his awkward, bumbling glory. Plus, the kid’s smile is infectious. It’s hard for anyone not to be happy when he is. “As thrilling as I’m sure your personal life is at the moment, that’s still not an excuse for being late.”

“Right. I know, won’t happen again,” he calls over his shoulder, hurrying to his lab, knowing full well that it will. He’s late, like, every other day. He just hopes he has the same excuse in the future.

He’s in the middle of analyzing a blood sample when his phone buzzes in his pocket, and when he extracts it with his free hand and catches sight of who the message is from he nearly drops the test tube he’s holding. He sets it down carefully and nearly chokes when he reads what she’s sent him.

_‘I have to say, I wasn’t expecting that from you. You were amazing. Where’d you learn to do that thing with your tongue?’_

His gaze sweeps the lab as he blushes head-to-toe, coughing in embarrassment. There’s no one around, but still…

_‘I’m a little offended that you weren’t expecting much from me, to be honest. Maybe I’d tell you, if you were nicer.’_

He fiddles with the centrifuge in front of him, waiting for his results as well as for her reply, the latter with baited breath. It doesn’t take long.

_‘Oh, come on, you can’t blame me. You have to admit, you don’t seem the type. You were so nervous. It’s okay, though—I think it’s adorable. Also, I’d prefer if you’d just demonstrate, again. You know, showing is better than telling. I’d return the favor. ;)’_

He sucks in a deep breath. He should  _not_  be doing this at work. Having this kind of conversation. This must be against some sort of rule, really. But then he grins to himself as he types out his reply, finding that he doesn’t really care much either way. They go back and forth like that for a while—flirting, talking, whatever, and somewhere along the line they set up to go out for coffee, after they’re both finished work. They even set a time. He’s practically over the moon about where this seems to be going.

He jumps about a foot in the air when he’s in the middle of writing a particularly…interesting text and one of the new detectives—Thawne, he thinks—walks into his lab. 

“Sorry, Allen. Didn’t mean to startle you. But Joe wants to see you—says he needs you to grab a file on a new case that’s just come in.”

“Sure thing,” Barry nods, hoping to God that he’s not as red as he thinks he must be. He follows him down the stairs and towards Joe’s office and then—he freezes in place, his eyes going wide as saucers and his heart dropping to his stomach in dread because fuck, fuck,  _fuck_ —that’s her. And she’s hugging Captain West and she’s calling him ‘dad’ and  _holy shit, he’s so fucked_. He doesn’t think it could possibly get any worse—but it does.

“Iris? Is that you? I was wondering where you went last night,” Detetctive Thawne says in surprise when he spots her, seemingly unaware of Joe standing  _right there_. Barry bites back a groan of exasperation.

“Oh! Eddie,” Iris laughs uncomfortably, and then her eyes land on Barry standing behind him, and her mouth falls open in shock. “Barry…?” Barry shakes his head frantically and she seems to catch on, because she quickly looks away. “Um. I didn’t…know you worked here. Either of you, uh… I had…places to be, Eddie—I’m sorry.”

“Thawne, what are you talking about? Where were you with my daughter last night?” Joe asks, narrowing his eyes, and Eddie seems to realize his blunder. 

“Nothing! I mean, nowhere, I was just—I was just leaving. Ha. Right. I’ll see you around then,” he gives Iris a tight smile and then scampers away, Joe’s heavy stare at his back.

“And do you two know each other?” Joe demands, pointing at them accusingly.

Iris blurts out a ‘yes’ at the same time Barry stammers out a ‘no’.

“I mean, yes—”

“—I meant no!”

“Um.” Barry rubs the back of his neck, determinedly avoiding Iris’s gaze. “What we mean is, uh, we’ve met before, briefly, like, in passing. But we don’t really  _know_ each other, um. You know?”

“Alright…” Joe eyes the two of them suspiciously, but thankfully he lets the matter drop. “Barry, get back to work so that I can talk to my daughter. I left a file on Eddie’s desk that I need you to look over.”

“Yes, sir,” he says in a small voice, wanting nothing more than to crawl in a hole and die, to get as far away from this situation as possible.

And yet, he only makes it across the room, and ends up lingering at Eddie’s desk a lot longer than necessary, going through the file he’s been given with deliberate slowness. He tries really hard not to stare at Iris, still not too far away, as she converses with her father, although he can’t help glancing up at her every few seconds. It seems like she’s looking down at something, but he can’t tell what…and then his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he nearly drops the file in his hands as he scrambles to check it without drawing attention to himself. 

 _‘So, are we still on for coffee later?’_ the message reads, and he looks up in surprise. She’s not looking at him, but he can clearly make out the smirk playing on her lips. His eyes go wide in equal parts horror and excitement. She’s texting him while talking to her dad.  _Unbelievable._

 _‘You’re evil.’_ he responds, shaking his head in disbelief.

_‘I’ll take that as a yes? ;D’_

_‘…yes.’_

He sighs dramatically. His life is literally playing out like a romantic comedy, at this point, and this has all been in the span of less than two days. (He doesn’t actually mind though, he thinks to himself, if this all ends up working out. He loves romantic comedies.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my [tumblr](http://bisexualiriswest.tumblr.com/), as most of these prompt fills are.


End file.
